


A Measure of Control

by RedHawkeRevolver



Series: Shield Me From the Storm [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: All of the smut for these two forever, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Because they have to be, Comfort Sex, Established Relationship, Ignis topping from the bottom, M/M, No one can tell me these two are not a canon couple, Oral Sex, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, emotional smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9112489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHawkeRevolver/pseuds/RedHawkeRevolver
Summary: Before Ignis can lose his way, Gladio has a plan.





	

Ignis sat.

He didn’t quite know what he was sitting there doing, in an out-of-the-way rented room, waiting for Gladio to finish with his shower. He couldn’t recall the last time he just _sat_. The two of them had a room to themselves tonight. In truth, it had been _the two of them_ for a lot longer than it was _the four of them_ , so it hardly felt strange. He and Gladio had served the Crown even before Noctis considered them friends. Even before either of them knew, _truly_ _knew_ , what that service meant.

Ignis leaned back in his chair and blinked against darkness. He remembered to stop himself this time before reaching up to rub his eyes in an attempt to rub away the shadows. His flesh was quick to heal. His sight was not. He’d always enjoyed a measure of rude health, as if his body knew he hadn’t the time for weakness. Ironic then that, at such a critical point, his vigor was stripped from him, hampering his ability to help his Prince become the King he needed to be. Regis had left Noct in his charge. It was a duty he held dear. Now, he felt that duty slipping through his fingers into the vastness of the night.

He knew he should fight to grab hold of it, to set his jaw and persevere. He did his best to keep his upper lip stiff in that regard so that the others didn’t see what was really in his head. His deep-seeded determination, the tenacity and steady persistence he’d cultivated over a lifetime, was waning. He felt _spent_. Tired. Not only blind, but deaf and dumb as well. A vile and treacherous part of him cried out that there was nothing left he had to give and no further way for him to serve.

His heart clenched in his chest at the thought. _Is this really what he’d become?_ Just another lost soul without a plan or a prayer? He couldn’t stomach this _frailty_. He’d promised Noct that if he fell behind he would bow out, but he didn't want to just _sit_. What did he want now though? What _could_ he want? 

He wondered if he’d ever actually thought about what _he_ wanted to do. He knew what he had to do, what he must do, what needed doing. That never involved just sitting. He served. He served the King and the Prince. He served when it was easy and when it was difficult. It was easy indulgently watching Noct gobble up a confection he’d made for him. It was difficult telling the Prince the crown city had fallen. But he’d done both of those things and every other thing in between. And now…?

He still wanted to serve, and yet he wasn’t sure he could tolerate serving as less than himself. He had standards, _high ones_ , that it seemed he could no longer meet.

He was startled from his introspection when Gladio, having finished his shower, started noisily moving about the room. Ignis noticed that, as he’d been sitting, his fists had clenched around the arms of the chair and every muscle in his back, neck and shoulders were strung tight as a bow. With slow deep breaths he pulled himself back from the tension and tried to refocus his mind.

Back home, when his thoughts swirled into chaos he would train. Sometimes he would spar with Gladio, but more often he preferred to be alone, moving through forms and cutting through phantoms trying to bring his perception of the world’s entropy back into a manageable, actionable set of duties. He would savor the thumping sound of his heart during the rigorous routines. The loud, clear pounding of it inside his head served to drown out all the dissonant thoughts and force them back into a melodic rhythm.

On the road, since Insomnia fell, he more and more found solace in his time with Gladio instead. There was no lack of fighting to necessitate time for additional training. There was, however, an abundance of long quiet nights filled with uncertainty. Paths taken, and not taken, decisions made and not made, all haunted Ignis while the others slept. Noisy worries and shapeless anxieties would nag at him until the sun rose. Gladio was always able to get his heart thumping when he needed the diversion the most, always able to help him beat back the maelstrom. With plain words, clear actions and no regrets, Gladio’s _way,_ his very being, so different from his own, helped Ignis more than anyone knew.

“Hey. I’m done.” Gladio seemed to feel the need to announce his every action when they were alone together now.

“Do you imagine I wasn’t already aware of that with the unholy racket you’ve been making? There’s nothing wrong with my ears, you needn’t stomp about like a behemoth for my sake.”

Suddenly, Ignis felt a whisper of hot breath at his ear.

“Whatever. You love this behemoth.” Gladio had swiftly and silently snuck up beside him. The stealth of the act really just proved Ignis’ point that he was only making noise for the sake of the ‘blind man’. And yet there was truth to Gladio’s statement. Ignis inhaled deeply. Even after a shower and likely clad only in a towel, _though sadly he couldn’t verify that on sight alone_ , Gladio smelled of leather and steel. The scent was a comforting and grounding bit of familiarity when the gears in his head showed no sign of slowing their relentless turning. He couldn’t say what he wanted for himself tomorrow, or the next day, but right now he wanted the warm fragrance of leather and the steady sound of a thumping heartbeat.

He turned his head just enough to catch Gladio’s lips with his own. It was a soft brush, a mere suggestion, but it was usually all that was needed to trigger the tide to come and sweep him up. Instead of a behemoth embrace, however, he got an admonishment.

“You’re still tense.”

Ignis furrowed his brow, not expecting he would have to have a conversation about this. “What?”

“You’re always a little high-strung, sure, but right now, you’re _tense_.”

Ignis sat up straight, taken aback. “ _High-strung_?”

“I said ‘tense’. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with your ears?”

Ignis didn’t quite know what to say. Gladio, on the other hand, for better or worse, apparently had a lot to say.

“You know I’m all aboard when you wanna fuck to work shit out in your head, Ignis, but I can tell the difference between needing to clear away the brain clutter so you can focus and not having anything to focus on in the first place. I’m good, but I can’t fuck you into knowing what you want to do with your life now.”

He wanted to stand up and protest. Effrontery was not something Ignis was accustomed to dealing with, even among those who only knew him in passing, let alone his lover. Though perhaps it was only his lover who could dare speak the truth out loud. Ignis was always the man with the answers, and yet here and now, for himself, he had none. To say that he couldn’t see his way forward was both morosely obvious and tenderly astute. Both were qualities Gladio had in abundance, especially for those he loved.

Ignis settled back in his chair with a sigh. “Are you proposing celibacy until I either give up or Noctis releases me from service?”

“Ha! First of all: not in a million years. Second of all: we both know none of those things is ever gonna happen.”

 _Then what is the point of this conversation?_ Ignis had half a mind to abandon it and search for some daemons to slay instead.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you aren’t looking to talk right now.” Again Gladio proved astute if not outright telepathic. “Fine then, come on.”

Gladio took his hand and Ignis allowed himself to be led over to the bed. He knew precisely where it was. He didn’t need led there, but in the context of being drawn forward by a lover, as opposed to being shepherded by a nursemaid, he was willing to let it happen.

Ignis sat at the edge and anticipated being leaned backwards and laid down with a rough kiss under the crushing and welcoming weight of Gladio. Again he was disappointed when the bed dipped down beside him as Gladio too, just sat. And so they sat together, in awkward silence, until the last of Ignis’ frayed patience burned away. He turned in a huff and reached up with fingertips to find Gladio’s lips. He took the initiative and drew him into a deep kiss. They exhaled into one another and Ignis was able to confirm that a towel was indeed the only thing Gladio had on. After few more seconds of rising heat and wandering hands, Ignis tried to lay back, fully expecting Gladio to follow him and finally take the reigns, but the attempt was thwarted by more damnable _talking_.

Gladio pulled away, leaving Ignis frustratingly breathless and even more tense than when the evening began. “Nope. Sorry, Iggy. No free rides here. Come and get me or give up. Your choice.”

“ _Come and get you?_ What are you even talking about? This is ridiculous.”

“Look, Ignis, it’s no secret you’re a control freak. And now some of that control has been taken away. You’re doing a great job being ‘you’ and pretending everything is fine, but you can’t hide shit from me. You’re rattled. I know you don’t want to give up, even though most people in your shoes would have already. So, I’m giving you the opportunity to practice being a controlling dick again with the senses and abilities you have now. And hopefully tomorrow, you’ll let me help you a little more, not just in bed, but with everything. We can keep working at it until we get you to where you want to be.”

He didn't respond right away, instead taking time to let Gladio’s words sink in. Ignis had to respect the bravery required to call him a ‘controlling dick’ to his face. The King’s Shield wasn’t prone to long speeches or unnecessary sentiment, so when he did venture into that territory it was important to take him seriously.

Ignis supposed he was usually content to let Gladio dominate the discourse during their intimate time together. Their bed, wherever it may be and sometimes when it wasn’t even a bed, was always a bastion of release for Ignis. It was a space where the relentless buzzing in his head quieted as he let his lover take control for a short time before morning came and he was inevitably forced back into the driver's seat, both literally and figuratively. He could close his eyes, give in to pleasure for pleasure’s sake, forget the machinations of the world outside of Gladio’s confident embrace and just rest. In those times, he surrendered his senses. Now Gladio wanted him to use what senses were left to him in a wholly new, wholly unconventional fashion.

Well, their relationship had always been unconventional.

“We can still do everything you like,” Gladio’s voice turned into a low and tempting rumble, “you just have to…”

“ _Come and get it_ , yes, I know.” Ignis repeated drolly. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ll remind you that we have, in fact, done this blindfolded before. While pleasurable, I wouldn’t necessarily call it therapeutic.”

“Not the same. That was for the sake of being kinky. This is for the sake of your sanity.”

“Isn’t that a bit melodramatic?” Ignis couldn’t recall ever spending so much time discussing the motivations for sex. The act had always been easy for them. They had a natural connection with a primal spark that never failed to ignite. Nothing ever needed _said_. Now, it seemed, no words were being spared.

“Hey. Don’t minimize this.” Gladio’s ire audibly rose and Ignis almost jerked away when his chin was tilted up to bring them face to face. “Focus on yourself for a change and think about what _you_ need, not Noct, or me or anyone else. Now. Less bitching. More seducing. Get to it.”

“Ah…” Ignis opened his mouth, thinking to continue ‘bitching’ but the only thing that came out was an unexpected laugh. He’d wanted a distraction. His lover was nothing if not entirely distracting. Forcing his laugher away and clearing his throat, Ignis was finally able to respond. “Alright. Fine. How do you propose I begin this grand seduction? ‘Hard to get’ isn’t really a role I’ve ever seen you play.”

“Just watch me!” Gladio announced, sounding far too pleased with himself. Ignis felt the bed shake, it’s springs squeaking in protest as Mr. Hard to Get repositioned himself. What it actually sounded like was a behemoth launching himself backwards to sprawl flat across the mattress.

And then a towel hit Ignis in the face.

“You’re like a child…” He grumbled, as he carefully folded the towel and set it down at the corner of the bed. He then stood up and stretched, rolling his shoulders and rubbing at the back of his neck. He realized the first pleasing thing about being in the role of seductor was that he could undress at his leisure and set his clothes aside in a neat pile when typically he had to search for them after the fact, strewn about in corners, _or in bushes_ , and often waste time stitching buttons back on where careless Gladio couldn’t get at him quickly enough to bother with dexterity.

As he took his time with each finger of his gloves, cufflinks, buttons, belt buckle and each crease, fold and drape of arrangement, the frustrated sounds of Gladio waiting on the bed increased and Ignis’ smile widened.

When his clothes were situated, he could distinctly hear Gladio’s quickening breath. They hadn’t even touched yet and already Ignis started to feel what he imagined Gladio had wanted for him out of this encounter. Ignis was shaping their interaction. Molding his world. Even in darkness, he was carving out clarity.

Emboldened, Ignis climbed onto the bed and knelt at the foot of it. He reached out and found Gladio’s ankle. Warm skin against his cool fingertips, the massive leg flexed underneath his touch, perhaps trying to pull away from the shock of cold hands, but Ignis grabbed hold and held him in place. A noncommittal grunt was Gladio’s only reply. While still keeping one ankle in his grip, Ignis ran his other hand up Gladio’s other leg. Firm pressure explored corded muscle and goosebumps appeared all along a flexed calf and a solid thigh.

Hands could only feel so much, and soon it wasn’t enough. Pulling up on Gladio’s free leg under his knee, Ignis leaned forward and brought it closer to his lips. An enticing waft of leather drew him in to taste and the salt of skin was delicious under his tongue.

Gladio inhaled and exhaled deeply, impatient as ever, but patient enough to endure. Ignis licked a path up the inside of one leg while he busied his hand stroking upwards on the other, reveling in _feeling_ the energy of Gladio’s muscles. Ignis always enjoyed watching his lover’s tendon’s move and strain during sex, loved seeing sweat bead up on tanned skin, but he was finding there were other ways to both enjoy and elicit those things he loved even without sight.

When Gladio’s breathing evened out, Ignis decided to make sure his man was still paying attention. Without warning, Ignis bit down playfully on the soft skin of Gladio’s inner thigh.

“Hey!” He tried to jump but Ignis held him down. “Are you gonna torture me forever? Come on!”

“You’re the one who wanted it this way.” Ignis spoke against Gladio’s leg, peppering soothing kisses over the bite.

“Yeah, well, just don’t leave me hangin’ here, okay?”

Ignis answered earnestly. “Never.”

With sure hands that didn’t need sight to guide them, Ignis reached to grasp at Gladio’s stiff cock. It twitched eagerly at the attention and Ignis almost laughed again when he heard a muttered ‘ _finally_ ’ come from above him.

Ignis repositioned, Gladio’s hard length still in his hand. He straddled the slim waist of his lover and perched above him, picturing in his head what he might see if he could. He imagined unruly dark hair splayed on a pillow. With a short reach forward, Ignis was able to card his fingers through that hair, exactly as he saw it in his mind’s eye. He imagined Gladio’s flared nostrils heaving with breath as slow strokes teased his cock and full lips parted, hungry for another kiss. Ignis obliged, finding those parted lips waiting for him. A rough unshaved chin scratched at his face and guttural moans vibrated along busy tongues. Chest to chest, Ignis let his own weight fall forward onto Gladio, and he took his own throbbing length in his other hand and stroked in sync, cocks trapped between the desperate gyrations of slender hips looking for more attention.

Ignis was ravenous now, and caught up in a blissful mindlessness that sought only new sensations in these fleeting moments with no thoughts occupied by yesterday or tomorrow. _Here_ was Gladio. _Now_ was Ignis. And with the full force of his formidable devotion he would act. Because he could. And nothing would stop him.

Even with the benefit of sight, Gladio was shocked when Ignis shifted and took him in his mouth. Ignis loved hearing the tortured hiss of gratification and feeling the frenzied pull of sheets beneath them as Gladio twisted at the bedding with his fists. Ignis bobbed his head up and down in long deep swallows, not leaving Gladio any time for respite between the ardent sucks. It was perhaps not his most artful blow job, but what it lacked in finesse it made up for in enthusiasm. Ignis wasn’t sure Gladio had ever tasted so amazing. He couldn’t recall ever feeling anything so divine as taut buttocks writhing in his hands and bucking up for more stimulation. He certainly knew no sounds were ever so perfect as Gladio’s urgent groans and the stricken plea that was his own name on his lover’s lips.

Ignis brought him to the edge and then pulled away, heaving breath, face covered in his own saliva. With an anguished roar, Gladio finally sat up and tried to grab Ignis, fully intending to switch their positions and finish the act, but Ignis countered and caught Gladio’s wrists forcing him back to the bed. Pinned now, with Ignis hovering over him, Gladio growled but didn’t fight further. Ignis just chuckled. When he sensed his prey relax again, Ignis let his hands travel up tattooed arms. Again he was struck by new sensation. He’d never noticed how some spots where he knew there to be ink felt smooth and some spots were raised and thickened. He tried to remember what each line looked like, each pattern, as his fingers wandered. He found scars. So many scars. Old ones he knew well, new ones still healing. Gladio let him explore, though it must have been a mighty exercise in restraint. Feeling the planes of Gladio’s body, the ripples of muscle and the dormant strength, made Ignis mad with desire. With nothing between the act of the touch and his perception of it to draw away from the experience, he felt a whole new depth of lust and love unfurl in his gut. Soon, his own cravings would be denied no longer.

Reaching back he took hold of Gladio’s cock again, still slick and proud, just waiting for more attention. When Gladio brought his hands up, this time to bury his fingers in Ignis’ hair, he didn’t stop him. Gladio panted with each stroke and when Ignis finally positioned himself above the rock hard waiting shaft, the imposing Crownsguard was driven to beg through clenched teeth.

“Ignis. Come on. _Please just let me fuck you_.”

Never able to deny a request like that, Ignis eased himself down onto Gladio’s cock. With slow movements he joined their bodies, inch by inch taking him in and savoring the tight slide. When fully seated, he took a few slow breaths and then started moving, raising and lowering himself with a steady rhythm as he stroked his own cock. He could _feel_ Gladio’s eyes on him as he worked and his skin burned under the scorching gaze. Before he knew it, he was rushing, sprinting, riding Gladio to his peak as if it was the last they would ever share. Gladio’s hands left his hair and gripped his hips with crushing force as he pounded his pelvis upward to meet each of Ignis’ movements.

Ignis couldn’t stop himself, wouldn’t stop himself, didn’t want to stop himself, when his climax burst inside his head and his gut and came spilling over his hand onto Gladio’s chest. He had enough sense about him to worry he would collapse, be he knew he needn’t be concerned. Though his body went limp with bliss, Gladio’s arms were ready to hold him up and with a final few thrusts, Gladio too was tumbling down the other side of his peak.

Satisfied now, and numb to the trials of the world, but confident once more with his place in it, Ignis let Gladio lay him down on the bed and then felt him curled up behind, back pressed to chest, surrounding him in warmth. _Messy warmth_.

“You didn’t clean yourself off.” Ignis snarled.

“Nope.” Gladio yawned lazily and snuggled them closer together.

“ _Ugh_. You did this on purpose.”

“Yup. When we wake up, you can let me help you shower. It’ll be fun. Promise.” Gladio pulled the sheets up to cover them.

Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose with irritation but the contentment of sex-hazed sleep was calling him... _and, actually, that did sound like fun_.

“Fine.” He conceded. “It’s a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I fucking love these two.


End file.
